


probably not interested

by locrianrose



Series: The Family You Choose [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood, F/F, Gore, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3464939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locrianrose/pseuds/locrianrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>True love was for wimps. You know, the wishy washy types who lived comfy lives where they didn't risk life and limb every day, and lived happily oblivious to just how real shit was. South had decided that years and years ago, back when she and North were the best hunter duo that'd been seen in the black hills for years. She'd seen her brother’s boyfriend gutted by the creature they'd been hunting, and the toll that it’d taken on him. Even now that they weren't alone, and were working with a group with new names that they'd taken from the states that they'd protected for so long, she didn't think any differently, and she hadn't felt any sappy feelings of affection for anyone but her brother. He was family, and he held priority.</p>
<p>She definitely wasn't now staring at the woman before her who'd just gutted a werewolf with a silver knife that she'd seemingly pulled out of nowhere, blood splattering on her formerly clean coat as South stared with a mixture of awe and attraction. Nope. South wasn't interested in that. Definitely not interested in the way her lithe form moved to spin to face South, shoving the now lifeless corpse away with a hand.</p>
<p>Set at an unnamed time in this verse after the recruitment fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt by agentwashfeels on tumblr--South+ Love

True love was for wimps. You know, the wishy washy types who lived comfy lives where they didn't risk life and limb every day, and lived happily oblivious to just how real shit was. South had decided that years and years ago, back when she and North were the best hunter duo that'd been seen in the black hills for years. She'd seen her brother’s boyfriend gutted by the creature they'd been hunting, and the toll that it’d taken on him. Even now that they weren't alone, and were working with a group with new names that they'd taken from the states that they'd protected for so long, she didn't think any differently, and she hadn't felt any sappy feelings of affection for anyone but her brother. He was family, and he held priority.

She definitely wasn't now staring at the woman before her who'd just gutted a werewolf with a silver knife that she'd seemingly pulled out of nowhere, blood splattering on her formerly clean coat as South stared with a mixture of awe and attraction. Nope. South wasn't interested in that. Definitely not interested in the way her lithe form moved to spin to face South, shoving the now lifeless corpse away with a hand.

"South, duck!" She reacted instantly to the sound of her brother’s voice, jerking her gaze away from Connie to drop into a crouch. A bullet slammed into a figure behind her, knocking it down with a yelp, and South zeroed back in on the fight, pulling up her own handgun to fire into the beasts chest, taking it down completely. North was good, but she was closer, and the freaks that they were up against today were tougher than what could be taken with a single bullet.

"Good shot!" Connie called, breathing heavily as she glanced to see where the next creature would be and looking away from South. A pack of five had been reported, and they'd taken down two, and York had gone after a third.

"Thanks." South shrugged, staring at the darkening sky. She definitely wasn't blushing. Blushing was for wimps, and people who weren't her. Blushing was for cute little couples that had no idea how risky their little romances were, and certainly didn't have to deal with crushing on someone who they might see die any day. She'd seen Connie and Wash awkwardly making eyes at each other enough times to know that she didn’t have a chance. Not that she’d been thinking about it.

South shook her head, stealthily moving to approach the den that the two wolves that they'd just killed had emerged from, Connie nodding to her before advancing slowly at her side. York should be waiting at the back by now, and if he wasn’t, then it's wasn’t her fault. North should be sniping, and he'd pick off anything that they might miss and escaped.

Connie froze, holding up a finger, and South took another step forward before she irritably stopped, glancing back to see what she needed, before moving forward when the other didn't make any other movements or give instructions. South knew what she was doing–she'd been with the group before Connie, and she didn't need help for something as simple as the two werewolves that'd be in there.

When Connie placed a hand on South's arm again, this time determinedly pulling her to a stop. South spun and glared at her, hissing angrily at her.

“Connie, what the hell?” South didn’t take time to feel guilty at how the other had hesitated under her glare, simply staring her down, taking her attention off of the house.

“Something isn’t right.” Connie mumbled to her, refusing to meet her irritated gaze. “Just give it a minute, and wait for York to check in.”

“I’m not waiting!” South hissed back. “We’re doing what we have to! York can take care of his damn self, and we’re going in now! We don’t need him!” She jerked her arm away from Connie, frustrated by the potential feelings of affection she had for the other, and the fact that she was trying to hold South back when she was perfectly capable of taking down a filthy half-breed on her own. North and Connie had enjoyed all of the success so far, and undoubtedly York. She wouldn’t be going out of this without a kill of her own, not when she was far more than capable, and better than Connie.

She moved to the door of the house, ignoring Connie. She’d follow—she knew that the other wouldn’t let her go in alone, and sure enough, once inside, South was reassured to find Connie following her. Good.

The ancient carpet squelched slightly when South continued further in, and she wrinkled her nose at the thought of the cleaning that she’d have to do on her boots after this.  The shit that she did to keep them in good shape… Connie didn’t seem to be bothered by keeping things clean as much as South was, but the other did keep her hair trimmed neatly. South had noticed the way that she never seemed to need to have the undercut trimmed, and she’d assumed that she did it herself. They didn’t really have time for haircuts—although she was sure that Carolina died hers—probably just another reason that the other woman seemed to think that she was better than everyone else. South noticed things about Connie’s appearance, like the defined curves of her body and how she moved lightly and carefully, making every movement count.

“South-“ Connie’s voice sounded sharply in the eerie silence before cutting off, and South was rewarded for her daydreaming as a heavy form slammed into her, shoving her down to the ground. She reacted as quickly as she could, swinging a fist up towards the creature.

Knuckle met matted fur, and a furious scream tore through the room as South felt her fingers crunch slightly, swinging at the beast despite the pain, fury filling her veins. A string of curses spat out, Russian words mingling with English as she fought to keep the beast above her from sinking its teeth into her flesh. Fishing for a knife she managed to swipe at it with her uninjured hand, the silver blade sending it yelping away.

“Shit. Shit fu-“ South cut off, stumbling to her feet and spinning to see Connie fighting off another two of the creatures, coming to the quick conclusion that the information that they’d been given had been incorrect, and unless York was down… South forced the thoughts out of her mind, gingerly shifting her hand as she cussed, turning to see York himself dealing with the werewolf that’d taken her down previously. So he was here now, showing up after doing hell knew what.

South winced as she pulled out her preferred weapon, handgun clenched tightly in her fist as she took aim, carefully firing at one of the creatures that Connie fought, taking it down and leaving Connie to take out the other before rounding on York.

“Where the hell were you?” South growled.

“I was just where I was supposed to be!” He held his hands up before him, wiping a bloodstained blade on a scrap of cloth. “I’m not the one who had faulty info, and you were the one who was down.”

“Don’t even—that wasn’t my fault!” South declared. “Don’t try to pin this shit on me! We were told that there’d be five, and I count, what, five here alone, and assuming you actually took care of what you were supposed to, that’d be—“

A yelp from Connie interrupted her, and South turned in time to see the other woman go down hard, the beast that’d slammed her down stumbling back as bullets from both York and South met it, sinking deeply into its chest.

“York, where were you?” South hurried to Connie, her voice raised and angry. Connie was slowly pushing herself up with an arm, and South rounded on York. She’d be fine.

“South.” North interjected unexpectedly from the doorway, and South glared at him. He’d seen fit to come in now. As if she cared, and her hand still hurt like hell, and of course he was taking York’s side.

“Thanks.” York was looking at North now, and South didn’t bother to say a thing now. “I took care of the one I’d been sent after.” He hurried to Connie’s side, helping her up to her feet. “There were more inside than we were told. I was working my way through.”

“See, South?” North looked at her evenly, taking her arm with his firmly. “We’ll head out now. Florida will be by later to check for scavengers. York, you and Connie head for the truck.”

North tugged at her arm again, and she reluctantly followed him out of the hovel, sliding her gun back into its holster, stooping to pick up the knife that she’d used with the same hand. North raised his eyebrows at her actions, but he didn’t say anything for a moment, and York and Connie had already left.

“Why didn’t you listen to her?”

“What—don’t you start!”

“I saw that. South, you know we’re a team now. You can’t just barge in anymore!”

“Shut up, North! I don’t need to be babysat!”

“South, I need you to listen to me.” He tugged her along with him down the road, nodding ahead to where York was walking with Connie, keeping her walking ahead.

“North. What happened back there.”

“You need to listen. She’s not on the same level as the rest of us, but we need her. She’s got her own talents, but fighting off three wolves at the same time isn’t one of them.”

“What the hell happened? We were supposed to take them out!” South jerked her arm away from North, glaring at him.

“I don’t know yet, South.” He stated tersely. “We don’t have time to find out now, and I need you to listen!”

“Fine.” South muttered, starting to walk again and refusing to meet North’s eyes. “Go help Connie and York. I’ll keep up the rear.”

North sighed, then moved forward to walk alongside York and Connie, leaving South to follow behind. Her hand hurt now, and she would’ve liked to actually talk to Connie about the shit that’d went down, but it wasn’t like it’d matter now. She’d messed up, and Connie had told her to wait, but there was no way that she’d be admitting that she was wrong now.

When they reached the spot that the truck was parked South kept her distance as York and North helped Connie to settle down in the backseat. There didn’t seem to be any blood, and that much cheered her. She would’ve continued to hang back, but North called for her, so she reluctantly made her way towards them.

She appraised the situation quickly. Connie seemed fine, but one arm did hang at a nasty angle. South felt a little guilt at how her pale face shone in the moonlight, and for a second she was reminded that Connie was younger than most of them, and even if she didn’t know how she’d gotten into the business of hunting, she was still young, and it actually _hurt_ to see her like that.

“What.”

“It’s dislocated. We’re going to have to pop it back in.”

South didn’t reply initially, wincing as she shifted her own fingers. “I don’t see why you’ll need me.”

“We don’t.” North added pointedly. “But I thought you might like to know.”

Connie wasn’t looking at any of them, her eyes screwed shut, and South finally nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”  She didn’t like seeing the other injured, and she justified that by telling herself that it was just because it was another member of her team, and someone that she didn’t want to see hurt. It wouldn’t make sense for her to want any of them injured.

Connie was just an addition onto that. That was it.

“I’m going to call Lina.” York stated easily, breaking the tension as he climbed into the passenger’s seat.

Connie was fumbling with her seat belt, and South just watched as North helped her.

“South. Why don’t you sit with Connie?” He asked pointedly, and she let out an irritable sigh before settling into the backseat next to the other.

“Sure.” She glanced down at her fingers, ignoring the way that her aching hand was hurting. York was busy explaining something to Carolina on the phone, and North was moving around to climb into the driver’s seat, so South took advantage of the moment, nudging Connie with her uninjured hang.

“Hey.”

Connie opened her eyes, eyeing South warily.

“Sorry.” That was all that South was saying. So maybe it was her fault to some degree that Connie had gotten injured. Not like she’d admit that to North or anyone else.

“Hey, I’ve felt worse.” Connie murmured back, closing her eyes again, and leaning her head back on the seat.

“I’ve got some ibuprofen.” South offered, rummaging around under the seat as North started the vehicle up, the radio playing some irritating country station that York had insisted on listening to on the way to the hunt.

“Thanks.” Connie wasn’t saying much,  and when South offered her a few pills she popped them into her mouth quickly, then fumbled with a water bottle that’d been on the seat.

“I have it.” South took it, removing the cap quickly and passing the now open bottle to the other.

South watched in the dim light of the radio as Connie took the bottle in her hand, gulping some water down, wincing. South shifted uncomfortably, shrugging off her jacket and buckling her seatbelt. Connie didn’t seem like she’d be moving soon, and South ignored the water bottle that tumbled down to rest on the floor, empty now.

Moving with a caution that she usually threw to the wind in her interactions with her team, South gingerly tucked the jacket around Connie, ignoring the surprised movement from the other. No one said anything, but South caught North eyeing her in the rearview mirror and she glared at him, curling her hands into fists that she firmly held at her side. The gentle feeling of a hand shakily resting on her bruised and battered fist nearly made her jump, but she forced herself to remain still, relaxing the sore fingers slowly as she realized that Connie seemed to plan to keep her hand there.

South kept her hand still. If North asked, she’d say that it was because it was nice to feel someone else touching the bruised and battered fingers of her hand, and when Connie had her had there South would be able to feel her pulse if she shifted slightly and it would reassure her that she hadn’t messed this all up completely, and that maybe it felt nice…Wait, no, she didn’t need to tell North all of that.

She’d figure out what to tell him later.

For now, she’d settle for shifting her hand slightly, gingerly moving her fingers to loosely grip Connie’s. They twinged painfully, and she was irritated to find that her pointer and middle fingers were jammed into an unnatural position, but she wasn’t going to complain.

Connie probably needed the comfort, anyway.

Yeah. That was why she was holding her hand. Also why she had no desire to let go anytime soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie doesn't know what to think after the mission. Florida really isn't helping.

Connie stared at the wall, ignoring the painful twinges in her arm as she moved to grab another of her knives and began polishing it. Better to be doing something when someone else came in. She wouldn't be going on any hunts till her arm had been given time to heal up completely, but she refused to be inactive. North and York had both been heard recounting their versions of the events that had taken place, but she hadn't seen South since the truck and didn't know what to think. She'd known that something was wrong when they'd been waiting outside. It'd been a flash of something, and she'd attempted to get her to listen, but South just wouldn't, and it'd ended the way that it had. Telling the others how she'd known wouldn't be acceptable, and she knew that she couldn't trust them. True, they might be cooperating for now, but she’d learned in the past that it was far better to keep certain things about herself secret.

She’d lost enough to know that about herself.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she responded carefully.

“Come in.”

The door swung open, and she turned to face it, evenly looking at Florida as he entered the room.

“Connie! I just got back from checking things out, and I thought I’d come check in and see how you were!”

“I’m fine, thanks.” She stated carefully, tensely watching his movements as he approached.

“I’d just feel terrible if you got into serious trouble, especially after I helped convince you to join up!”

Connie just shrugged, putting the knife she’d been polishing away and extracting another for cleaning and upkeep. She really didn’t need to be reminded how he’d been the one to introduce her and bring her here after what had happened, and of the fact that she did owe him for helping her.

"Don't worry about it." She eventually said. "You know that it's safer here than anywhere else."

"Oh, I do!" He grinned at her, winking. "You're much safer with a team!" He sashayed closer to give her an uncomfortably tight hug, then moved away. "Well, I'll be off! I'm meeting up with Wyoming, you know, and boy do we have some fun plans!"

He headed towards the door, and Connie focused on the blade again, choosing not to think of what his and Wyoming's plans might be, and also chose not to respond. It was easier not to.

As Florida closed the door, he glanced back with the same smile. "Also, just let me know if you want me to tell Carolina how we met so they'll be more likely to trust you! I'm always willing to do a friend a favor!" He had to know that she couldn’t want that—he was far from stupid.  He quietly exited the room after that, softly shutting the door behind him, leaving Connie alone and suddenly wishing that she wasn’t.

It was hard here, harder than it had ever been before, and she missed the family that she’d lost. This wasn’t what she’d wanted for her life. Before her talents had begun to attract attention, she’d wanted to be an artist. After, well, she did what she had to do to stay alive.  When Florida had found her, that thing had happened to be joining with him and his team. Her options were dire, and if they’d take her in, then she couldn’t complain.

Her shoulder ached as she adjusted her position, carefully replacing the clean knives. She needed to make sure that the rest of her gear was clean, but moving seemed like a task that she didn’t want to attempt at this moment. Sleep didn’t come easy, but at this moment Connie was tempted to try to rest.

Another knock at the door made her sigh and stand slowly, making her way towards it. Who she saw surprised and worried her slightly. South was towering over her, looking far more uncomfortable than Connie had ever seen her.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Connie nodded, wincing as she shrugged. Moving to the side, she returned to sit down by her knives. South followed her, sitting down at her side.

Neither of the two women spoke. Connie noted that South’s battered hand was wrapped, but it didn’t look bad. A few minutes passed before South finally let out a loud sigh then spoke.

“Okay. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, and I’m sorry that you got fucked and that it was my fault.”

Connie didn’t say anything for a moment, debating what South said, scanning the other’s face carefully for any hint as to her emotions.

“Thanks.” Connie nodded to South, returning to her cleaning, suddenly exceptionally conscious of the fact that she’d been the one to try to hold the others hand, especially after what had happened.  “I understand why you wouldn’t trust me.”

“Yeah, but I should.” South stated. An arm was gingerly placed over Connie’s shoulders with far more caution than she’d have ever expected from the other woman—it seemed that this was a night of surprises. “You’re a part of the team now.”

“Thank you.” Connie found herself repeating her earlier words, finally meaning what she’d said. “This is cliché, but that means a lot. Things weren’t—“ She paused, cutting herself off and knowing that she shouldn’t continue. “Just… thanks.”

“Hey, what’re teammates for?”

“Yeah.” Connie nodded in return, a tentative smile crossing her face.  Maybe she’d be able to trust them eventually—someday they’d know her, and things would be better, but for now if they’d trust her it would give her the protection that she needed, and that was the most important thing.

Besides, the warmth of South next to her on her aching arm felt good, and the simple comfort of not being alone was something that she knew she would miss if she ever had to leave.

And maybe this time she wouldn’t. 


End file.
